


Would You Kindly

by Synthetic_Soul



Category: overwatch
Genre: AU, BDSM, Dubcon / Non-con, Human!zenyatta, Humans now serve them, If omnics won the second crisis, M/M, Master/Slave, Mondatta is not the Mondatta you knew, Piercings, Power Dynamics, The Iris was a lie, minor Bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synthetic_Soul/pseuds/Synthetic_Soul
Summary: Mondatta's newest pet is an endless source of entertainment. But he does it best when defiant.





	Would You Kindly

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily based on the AU created between @SaltyWinterNix and myself. In response to a prompt. Features art by tumblr's @gazeintotheiris: 
> 
> Human! Zenyatta / Omnic Mondatta. 
> 
> The Iris was not as benevolent as everyone had assumed, believed to be a deity it was in fact, another god program. The Shambali were the perfect front, preaching tolerance and peace, luring the humans that supported them into a false sense of security, whilst simultaneously recruiting more omnics to their ranks. When the day came, the Iris awoke, bringing the second omnic crisis to a close with the successful subjugation of the majority of human kind. And through the resulting victory, Mondatta rose to power. While many omnics believe humans are of no use to them, there are those who believe it is the humans who should now serve - and many of the higher echelons find some interesting ways to do ensure they do just that.

“Simply beautiful.” Slender, nimble finger tips spidered a path up across silky smooth skin, paying the subtle tremor of a heartbeat below their sensor-studded forms. In a single, fluid motion, they slid the slim, gold bar of the jewellery cleanly through the freshly pierced bud of one dusky nipple, pausing to dab at the slight spilled blood with a dampened cloth. “How very lovely.”

 

His subject whimpered, soft belly quivering in the fraying effort to stifle a futile sob, those glinting golden eyes averted, now red-rimmed and glazed with shame.

 

Pale blue optic lights flickered their irritation as the needle was slid from the opposite side of the minute wound, cast aside out of sight. “Look at me.” The human's eyes remained downcast – a streak of defiance that would be ironed out swiftly, lest he wished to allow the young man to nurture it, let It grow into a fully fledged problem. _ “Look _ at me.” No, things like this needed to be nipped in the bud and quashed under heel at the first opportunity.

Unforgiving, segmented metal hand snagged at the young man's chin, pinching it tightly between thumb and forefinger, while the middle finger slid cleanly beneath, a chilling caress and reminder that the tall, lithe omnic now demanding his attention was very much in control of his life –  _ or death _ – here.

 

A watery gaze now met the cold, unwavering eye-slits of that pallid visage.

 

“Anyone would believe you were ungrateful for such lavish gifts. And you  _ are _ grateful, aren't you, Zenyatta?”

 

A miniscule dip of the head, only the once, and he could feel his systems begin to heat up and whir a little more prominently. The ungrateful whelp was testing the limits of his patience while clinging on by the skin of his teeth in paying dividends to his earlier command – the young man's gaze never wavered, nor did he appear to do so much as blink. A little more pressure was, perhaps, necessary.

 

He pinched those fingertips harder together and watched mild, irritable pain bloom behind the rich ochre of those irises.

 

“Y..yes....”

 

Unseen to the naked eye, those optics focused in.

 

“ _ Yes?” _

 

The young man swallowed hard, the quivering in his belly having ceased, settling into it's usual quiet dialogue with his breathing. That mechanical hand still held his chin trapped within it's vice-like grip.

 

“Yes...M-Master Mondatta.”

 

The pressure vanished.

 

“There.” The omnic crooned, tone eerily saccharine, rising from his poised, knelt position, palms smoothing across the gold-chain-adorned shoulders to admire his handiwork: His most prized pet. Interlacing those precise, mechanical fingers, a little click, a 'tut' emanated from his vocal emitter, a mild irritation. A few, scant spots of blood had come into contact with the silk of his ornate kasaya. Such a pity, he lamented, remembering how the hems of his outer robe had been sodden with it after their victory at the uprising,  it was so troublesome to remove. Besides, he enjoyed the fire in this one’s belly. Always so defiant, however subtle he believed himself to be.  He liked them with spirit.  “Now, as you were taught…” 

 

The young man’s eyes, to his credit, did not search his master’s face for long. All he would find there was the same, stern silence that came with the impassive unreadable visage. Zenyatta had learned to discern the silences, that passed between them, well. 

Placing one bare foot upon the cold, hardwood floor, the other followed suit, both meticulously clean, just like the rest of him, save for the unsightly glint of crimson peeking out in twin rivulets from behind the bejewelled gold nubs either side of his nipples. Fresh though the piercings were, the latest in a long line of modifications the omnic leader intended to adorn his newest acquisition with, Mondatta had deemed them the least severe, therefore enabling his resplendent pet to entertain him with his newly practiced skills. 

 

His tutors had been meticulous, stipulating that they would tolerate no mistakes beyond those they deemed acceptable. And, of course, Zenyatta had made many. While he was agile and capable, some might have stated graceful, he was no performer. But the omnic overseeing his training had assured Mondatta that, without a doubt, by the end of the week Zenyatta would be ready and able. The scars of that week had been fastidiously hidden with clever drapery and a little paint, or had simply healed over completely. The remnants, the psychological torment and gut-clenching concern that churned away at his insides, less so. Yet when he set foot upon the step up to the platform, that same discipline he’d learned long ago descended, like a familiar, comfortable blanket, banishing the blistering cold of his anxiety. 

 

His hands, their long, slender fingers finding their way, curled around the gleaming chromium pole that stretched from platform to ceiling. Why the omnic possessed such a feature within the depths of his abundant abode, Zenyatta could not begin to fathom. Perhaps it had always been here, an old fixture from a previous owner, perhaps he’d always planned to have another entertain him this way. It was inconsequential. 

Mind quiet, focused and still, he gracefully adopted his starting stance, artfully rearranging himself about the pole, the cold caress of it’s surface chilling the skin of his back, leaning there for support, one foot cocked, knee drawn up while his gaze focused itself upon the pallid plate of the omnic seated close by. 

 

Mondatta dipped his head in a display of approval, optics sweeping over the human’s lithe form appreciatively. “Begin.”

 

 

*****

 

“Please” 

 

A twist of pain mixed desperation flickered across the human’s features, a glimpse of the abandon he hoped to inspire in the impetuous creature strung up by his wrists before him. It fed the omnic, fuelled his desire in a way that pooled, richly, within his systems. Mondatta would, perhaps, never get enough of the delicious responses he could tease from his newest toy. 

 

_ “Please _ ...I - I need…” Zenyatta’s voice sounded strung out “...Nhh I.. _.haah..”  _  and indescribably tense. How long had he been secured here, bound at wrist, elbow, knees and ankles, to the same pole his lithe form had been artfully twirling around earlier? The omnic had even taken the time to ensure the position he had been restrained in was one such beautiful shape - a personal favourite that displayed his acquisition’s best attributes. Mondatta’s optics took another unsettlingly still moment to drink his plaything in. The human really was a breathtakingly wanton sight, chest heaving with the effort of straining muscles, nerves burning awash with lactic acid, wrenched this way and that. Now and again, and not without note, Zenyatta’s stomach fluttered as another oh-so-needy sob tumbled from those plump lips of his, making his heavily engorged cock bob and bounce when he quivered, on the verge of begging the pallid faced omnic for any relief he could get. 

 

He cooed his insidious affection, an almost melodic chirrup, slipping the cool digits of one hand along Zenyatta’s clammy cheek, thumb marring the tear tracks there. The glistening smears illuminated his skin, matching the strings of slick now covering his abdomen.  

 

A click vented pointedly through Mondatta’s vocal emitter, the bastardized rendition of a tut, and the thumb and forefinger mercilessly rolled the angry red nub of Zenyatta’s freshly pierced nipple between them, causing the man to hiss spittle through clenched teeth. 

 

“Do you, indeed?” A chuckle, darkly indulgent forced an icy shiver through the human’s body, those cold digits refusing to halt their fastidious torture. “Well, go ahead my pet.” 

That faceplate, pristine and spotless, leaned in so close Zenyatta felt the next words vibrate against the lobe of one decorated ear. “I know you remember how to ask.”  

 

The human swallowed thickly, moisture-saturated lashes brushing flushed and sweat sheened cheeks and he attempted to belay another sundering shudder. Mondatta observed with a sadistic interest.

 

“After all, the lesson did leave its mark on you.” He watched, optics growing brighter, arcanely pleased, when the kiss of a cool alloy fingertip swept sidelong across the slick, shiny head of Zenyatta’s cock, flicking the fine ring of pure gold protruding from the slit, sending the little golden decoration affixed to the band into a tiny spin that encompassed the ring’s circumference. Only when it came into contact with where the well-healed piercing disappeared beneath the skin of his frenulum, did it halt, jingling in a way that was pleasing to Mondatta’s aural sensors. “Did it not, pet?” 

 

Zenyatta’s reaction was electric.  Spine arching in a severe arc, perfectly accentuating the delightful pose in which he had been bound, the guttural, gasping cry of temporary elation climbing his throat to freedom, inch by painstaking inch. Oh how he loved to watch the human’s lips move, flounder as they fumbled over words the poor thing couldn’t conjure in his current arousal-drunk state.  He could almost  _ feel _ the abject panic in his little pet the moment that deft hand was taken away. The despair, the betrayal. 

 

Mondatta vented a sigh through his emitters for theatrical effect.  A wave and a flourish followed a verbal prompt. 

 

_ “Remember: _ Those who do not ask properly, will not be able to ask at all.” 

 

Zenyatta’s eyelids slid shut, tight, the pronounced bob of his adam’s apple indicating a rather poignant gulp. He remembered only too well, his jaw still ached in sympathy for the large wad of the gag that had been unceremoniously stuffed into his mouth, secured in place by a too-tight leather strap. Back when he had been so deliriously on edge that he could barely tell up from down and all that had slipped from his tongue had been nonsensical babbling, barely comprehensible, disjointed pleas for Mondatta to let him cum. 

Just like now, the young human thought to himself - he burned for it with every fibre of his being, caught on the cusp of utter ecstasy and strung out at the midway point between profound torture and pleasure unimaginable...and yet hated himself for it all the same. At least this time the toy, that had been used to work him up into this ardour-stricken frenzy, lay inert upon the floor. He’d made such a lewd mess of himself and the floor, the punishment Zenyatta had received had been legendary. 

But not this time. Never twice the fool. Zenyatta had learned that lesson well.

 

And Mondatta had found new ways to get beneath his skin.

 

“Please, Master…” Deft, smooth fingers slid beneath his balls, cupping them them firmly until a strangled gasp fled the human’s mouth.

“Please, Master, let me...let me cum!” 

 

The omnic hummed in a low, undulating, tone that carried through his frame, that same, insidious hand sliding up to palm the length of Zenyatta’s pulsing shaft, fingers curling dexterously around its bulk. 

In a single fluid instant the human rolled his hips up into the tight channel created for him, foreskin tugged back against the last couple of digits to see the glistening red head pop out of the silky fleshy boundary, causing a thick rivulet of pre to form at its apex, catching Mondatta’s eye enough to prompt the necessary reaction. A thumb, broad and smooth, dipped into the warm, clear fluid, massaging it back into Zenyatta’s tip in languid, circular motions that made the young human pant and wail his ardor, need pouring all it’s worth into his lower abdomen, white hot and molten. 

 

“How delightfully you submit.” That multi-tonal voice murmured deeply. “How  _ easy.” _

 

Mondatta tightened his grip feeling the thickness of Zenyatta’s cock twitch and strain beneath his sensors, the young man’s voice breaking amidst his incessant noise-making. It was a symphony all of it’s own, an ode to a breaking that had been a long, long time in coming.  But Mondatta could not deny his disappointment, the fight had been non-existent. Not like the whelp’s early days, when he would have done just about anything to defy him. A trying, but interesting time that crooned towards his darker side. 

His free hand reached, once again, for the human’s pleasure-stricken face, grasping his gold-painted chin and forcibly turning the man’s gaze upon him, giving Zenyatta’s eyes the seconds required for him to focus on the omnic’s pallid, static visage. 

 

“Where is the fire, Zenyatta? The zeal, the  _ defiance _ \- surely I cannot have been so successful?” 

 

Something flashed behind those golden, ochre eyes, dancing across the man’s expression. He refused to break eye to optic contact with his captor, perhaps the barest flicker of a snarl. Mondatta’s thumb flicked at the ring protruding from the human’s cock, watching avidly while Zenyatta’s hardening gaze was blown wide with something he couldn’t quite place. 

“Have I truly broken you?” An admonishing and needless tut, thumb lazily toying with the piercing, giving it a tug hard enough to tear a whimper from his pet’s throat.  _ “Disappointing _ , I believed we had much more fun ahead of us yet.” 

 

The omnic’s hand drew down Zenyatta’s slickened shaft, working in time against the man’s languorous rocking of his hips, the sweat starting to make his skin glisten beautifully in the soothing light of the room. “Then tell me, Zenyatta,” Mondatta leaned in, close as he spoke, tone pregnant with provocation. “To whom do you belong?”

 

The young man’s breathing had grown shallow, shaky and interspersed with moans so lascivious, the omnic leader did not need to take his cues from the physical reactions Zenyatta was exhibiting. Balls drawn up tightly to the base of his aching cock, now practically drooling viscosity, hips bucking more and more insistently into the slick, unforgiving tightness Mondatta afforded him. Those full, moisture kissed lips parted just enough to allow the sounds of his abject pleasure to rise. He was so painfully close it was delicious. 

 

“Say it.”

 

Zenyatta’s eyes rolled back in his head, choking back a desperate sob, nose wrinkling in the semblance of a determined snarl while that deviant hand sped up, driving him towards the wicked crest of his climax now fast approaching. So close, so agonizingly  _ close. _

 

Mondatta did not let up,  “Tell me, and everything you desire most right now, will be yours.” Twisting his hand on the fluent downstroke, thumb poignantly slipping back and forth over the delicate golden ring, making it ping against the man’s glans. “I will not ask again, Zenyatta; To whom do you belong?” A squeeze for good measure, forced every, straining, muscle in the stricken human’s body to jump and jolt, jerking him around in his tight bonds.  

 

It was on the cusp, sitting there right on the tip of Zenyatta’s wavering tongue, he could see it, almost touch it. And in that same moment Zenyatta surged, pushed forth in his restraints by the force of his bitter snarl that Mondatta almost had to reach back to re-balance himself, one food scooching back across the polished floor with an audible, teeth-jarring screech. But neither that nor the still-echoing demand of the omnic could have drowned out the fiery vitriol of the young human before him. 

 

“Th-the only person I will ever…. _ ever _ belong to, is  _ myself!”   _

 

Now Mondatta saw it, the fire, the zeal the sheer defiance so brazen, it heated his core to witness it in such a light. The thrill was unimaginable and made his circuits sing alive with accomplishment. 

 

“Ah, _ there _ it is.” The omnic chirped only too pleasantly, his hands relinquishing their hold on Zenyatta completely, relishing the anguished howl of ecstasy denied that his pet emitted. “So good of you to join me, Zenyatta.” An uncaring optic was spared to skim over the slick thinly coating his right hand, pressing thumb and forefinger together, only to pull them apart and observe the glistening string of fluid that hung between them.  “It seems you still have much to learn, pet.” 

 

Mondatta turned away.

 

The young man’s hands clenched tightly, gripping the pole hard enough to have turned the knuckles upon each to grow pale with blood restriction. 

 

“B-but I gave you what you wanted, I...I asked like you wi…” Zenyatta’s words were cut short by the sound of a metal heel screeching upon the floor. The omnic pivoted back to face him, sharply, hem of his ornate kasaya swirling about his gold-capped ankles. He was still seemingly regarding the fluid marring his otherwise pristine fingertips. 

 

“I reward correct answers and obedience, and you…”  He rubbed the pads of fingertip and thumb together, not so much as deigning to look Zenyatta’s way until the last, possible, moment.   _ “You _ offered me neither.” 

 

Too dumbstruck to do anything but stare, agape, Zenyatta’s lips moved of their own volition, the words stuck behind a thick wall of burning outrage and disbelief. This wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right!  _ No, no not again… _

 

Cold and slick, Zenyatta felt the press of two fingers smear viscosity obnoxiously down the side of one cheek. Oh how it burned, the gesture setting fire to his hope, feeding his desperation as it was engulfed in the proverbial blaze.

 

“Filthy.” Mondatta intoned, this time straightening with all the grace afforded to him and turning to stride away from the lewd sight towards the door. There he paused at its threshold, pretending to consider and paying the desperate little sobs at his back no mind at all. Music to his sensors. 

 

“Perhaps some time alone with your thoughts will modify your behavior?” -  But really, Mondatta hoped not. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
